


Dance With The One Who Brought You

by NefelibataSpirit



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Bonnie & Clyde, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Historical, American History, Crime Fighting, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Female Homosexuality, Fluff and Smut, Great Depression, Historical, Historical References, Homosexuality, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Inspired by Real Events, Leaving Home, M/M, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Weapons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-14 00:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10524804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NefelibataSpirit/pseuds/NefelibataSpirit
Summary: With the Great Depression setting an unavoidable gloom across America, Chloe Frazer is met with the one ticket out of proverty: the notorious Harry Flynn . Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A good song to listen to while reading this fic is Bonnie and Clyde by Lucien Gainsbourg and Scarlett Johansson: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s38PSh-Y4ac

Panicked voices were all you could hear on the radio, nowadays. Chloe scowled as her fingers grew tired of turning the knob on the broken radio. She cracked her aching fingers, remembering when these things became a big thing when it hit the shops and everyone just _needed_ to have one. Simpler times.

Now it's only used to see if there were any good news. So far, it was a useless attempt to even try.

She rubbed her temples. Oh, how she missed Britain.

"Chloe." She turned warily to see her boss tapping his foot with frustrating tension. "I'm not paying you to lounge around by the radio all day. We've got customers for crying out loud!"

Chloe briefly glanced around the small diner to see only three customers. One was sleeping near the window, another was reading the local paper that Chloe sometimes read and sipping on the black coffee that Chloe served about a half hour ago, and an all too familiar one was just stepping into the place. A gust of cold, January air swept over the small restaurant. Chloe internally groaned at the sight of Zoran Lazarevic cockily strolling towards the counter that she was stationed behind. Every time he came to the diner, he always made it a mission to flirt until he had run out of juice. She could feel her boss' warning eyes burning into the side of her head as Lazarevic sat down on one of the stools.

"How can I help you, sir?" Chloe sighed.  
Zoran laughed. "Miss Frazer, you act like you don't know me."  
"I wish I didn't."  
"Chloe," her boss warned.  
She rolled her eyes and got out her writing pad. "Can I take your order?"  
She watched as he culled over his mental list of pick-up lines. Lazarevic smirked. "I'd like some eggs - scrambled, with some orange juice and a side of _you_. How about you finally show me what's under those clothes?"

  
That has got to be the lamest pick up line he has ever fired at her. Chloe had to bite back the snarky comment that could've easily gotten her fired. Actually, you know what?  
"I don't know, Zoran," Chloe sneered, "We're out of eggs. How about a side of _'go fuck yourself, you old creep?'_ "  
A frown slowly replaced the suggestive grin on his scarred face. She heard an incredulous gasp emit from her boss.

It wasn't long before she was storming out of the small diner, unemployed, into the bitter cold. This is the third job that she had lost, but she has no regrets; she was tired of being seen as nothing but a pretty girl behind a counter who was vulnerable to blatant sexual harassment. She believed that she was more than that.

Nothing seemed to go right anymore. Not after the stock market crashed. She walked the usual mile to her house, passing by what felt like fifty homeless people. She even passed by a family with a skinny greyhound. The children were cramped in a small but useful cardboard box while the parents were out begging for a few spare dollars. Chloe didn't have any dollars on her, but she did drop some change inside the tin cup.

"God bless ya," the mother croaked. Chloe assumed that she had caught a cold. The mother's tired eyes followed after the brooding young lady who had just helped her gain enough money to buy some medicine.

"I'm home," Chloe called, taking her boots off in the creaky foyer. The smell of broiled mutton chops wafted from the kitchen nearby. She heard a clank from the kitchen and in moments, her mother was standing in the doorway, studying her with worried eyes.

"You're home earlier than usual," the older woman rubbed her face warily, "Don't tell me--"

"Yeah, I got fired."

"Again? What was it this time?" Her mother was fuming and Chloe didn't blame her, "Smart mouth?"

When Chloe nodded sheepishly, Ms. Frazer groaned. "Chloe, I've told you a billion times, I have made you _promise_ \--"

"It was _Lazarabitch_! That bloke is always--"

"Watch your mouth!"

"--coming onto me! And you don't even care!"

The older woman stomped back to the kitchen with Chloe following her, still throwing out a string of angry sentences.

"What would dad say?" Chloe blurted without thinking. Her mother's back stiffened and Chloe didn't even want to know what her face looked like. She wished she could suck what she just said right back into her throat. 

Her mother turned around and Chloe could see the hurt and the anger in her eyes. "Don't you _dare_ mention him, do you hear me? You have no right to."

"He was my father--"

"He's gone, Chloe. He tried his best, but he's gone," her mother struggled to keep the tears from spilling, "Y'know, I ought to get you married already. You're old enough and you'd probably be better off."

"Mum, don't say that--"

"I don't want to hear it," Ms. Frazer finally quelled, wiping at her eyes, "We have a visitor coming."  
Chloe frowned. "Who?"

"Mr. Harry Flynn." Her mother stated, averting the gloomy atmosphere with a swift change of subject, "The son of an old friend of mine. They moved here from Britain, too, before the stock market crashed. Sorta the same situation as us. She's dead now and I wasn't able to make it to the funeral since it was so far away--somewhere in Utah--but he kept in touch with me. Told me I was like a brief second mother to him through it all."

"How come I've never met him?"

"Because he's usually traveling all over the place!" Her mother softly chuckled, "Don't ask me how that man gets the money to travel so much. Rumor has it that he's been to some parts in Canada for crying out loud."

Chloe couldn't help raising an eyebrow. Traveling to Canada? In _these_ times? It's gotta be a rumor, it has to be. What kind of rich asshole who could supposedly travel the world wouldn't help out his mother figure financially? "I think he's bloody rich and lying to you, mum."

"Oh, stop assuming things. Anyway," Ms. Frazer continued, "Clean up the house, set the table, dress in something suitable, _do something_."

And so Chloe did. She dusted the shelves, polished the table, mopped the floors, and cleared the mouse traps. She used the good, un-chipped tableware when setting the small, round wooden dining room table.

Her mother was just setting the platter of mutton chops and the bowl of beef stew on the table when they heard a knock on the door. Chloe wiped her hands on the durable cotton of her green house dress and strode over to the front door.

When she opened it, she was met with an oddly familiar face. A face that should worry her for some reason. The uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach didn't leave when he spoke.

"You must be Chloe," Chloe immediately recognized the British accent. She also noticed a little scar on the left side of his upper lip as he smiled, "I'm Harry." 

"Well, don't you look familiar," Chloe voiced her thoughts. At this, the man's charming smile faltered a bit. He studied her for a bit in what Chloe thought to be in a cautious manner. His charm returned pretty quickly when Ms. Frazer came parading to the door.

"Harry!" She gave him a warm embrace, "Come on in before you catch a cold, dear. How've you been?"

The two of them chattered as Harry hung up his coat. Chloe was filing through her thoughts and memories, trying to figure out where she has seen that face--that hair! She was sure she had seen those swept back locks of brown hair before. They stepped around the buckets that caught the melted snow from the roof that sometimes leaked throughout the day when the sun was out.

Soon, the three of them were sitting comfortably at the dining room table. Chloe sat opposite from her mother and Harry, subtly observing the man who was reaching for the stew. Her mother gently slapped his hand away, chuckling. "Ah, Harry! You know we have to pray before digging in."

He blinked at her as if he forgot what prayer even was before realization seemed to hit him. "Oh, right!" he grinned at her, "Take it away, your highness."

As Ms. Frazer bowed her head and recited a lengthy prayer, Chloe saw his green eyes flick over to her. She regarded him as well and it was like the both of them were warning each other to back off while they can.


	2. Chapter 2

When they were finished eating, Chloe stood to take the dishes away to wash them. Like a skilled waitress, she balanced the plates and platters with her hands as she began to make her way to the kitchen. One trip to the kitchen is better than two trips.

"Let me help you with that," she heard Harry's smooth voice from behind her while she turned on the water. 

"Oh, you don't have to--"

"Chloe," her mother called from the dining room, "Let the gentleman help with the dishes."

Chloe huffed and handed him a towel for drying and they began a decent process.

"How old are you?" he inquiried, breaking the silence.

"I'm twenty," she frowned at him, "You?"

He shot her a charming smile, "Twenty-one."

She shrugged and continued scrubbing a plate. The oven and the fireplace in the living room warmed up the house from the winter air. Chloe loved it when the house was cozy like this because it was rare to have the luxury of warmth during winter. It was comfortably quiet for a few more moments until he broke the silence once again.

"Earlier, you said that I looked familiar," he informed.

"Yeah?"

"We've never met before," Harry pointed out, "So how can I be familiar?"

"I don't know. Maybe a picture or something?"

"A picture of me when I was a child?" He pushed.

"No, it was you as a grown-up," she mused, trying to remember where she's seen him before.

He remained quiet, staring at her. The dishes were done being cleaned and dried. They just stood there near the sink in thoughtful silence.

 _Harry Flynn_. It seemed like another word was usually paired with his name. A word that should frighten her. Rich? Corrupt?  _Wanted_.

Her eyes widened slowly as realization hit her. His face was on the newspaper earlier today. A newspaper that one of the customers from the diner was reading. It was a wanted ad for Harry Flynn, a ruthless criminal.

Her heart hammered in her chest as she could feel his eyes still fixated on her. She didn't know what to do. Run? Hide?

For some reason, she stayed still in place. The knives were on the counter beside the sink. If she could just--

"I know you're scared." She flinched at his voice and glimpsed at him. He seemed guarded and a little desperate. Just a little. "You don't have to be. I have no reason to hurt you unless you give me one."

"You're a criminal," was all that she could reply.

He sucked in a breath. There was a tense pause before he began to stride out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Chloe anxiously followed him, not knowing what he was going to do.

"Ms. Frazer."

Chloe's mother regarded him curiously. "Yes, Harry?"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, took a deep breath, and announced, "I want to marry your daughter."

 

-

 

They sat in the living room now. Chloe still gaped at the man sitting beside her, holding her hand and rubbing tiny circles on her knuckles. She couldn't speak because her throat was so dry with fear.

Her mother seemed to be so joyous at the two of them. "What made you decide on Chloe, Harry?"

Harry smiled fondly at Chloe. "Well, her beauty is obvious. But the way she sees the world is what drew me in. I want her to break free of these conditions and be my wife. I want her to see the world the way I see it."

Was this happening? Why was he suddenly keen on the thought of marrying her? Why was her mother so okay with this? So many questions flitted in Chloe's head.

Her mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, grinning widely. "Well, I guess she should start packing right away then."

Chloe stood, staring at her mother incredulously. She felt Harry squeeze her hand and she averted her gawking to him. He gave her a look that she could only describe with two words: _trust me_.

She looked around aimlessly. The house was falling apart. They were broke. She was miserable here and she knew it. She couldn't exactly pull Harry aside and question him. Not with her mother right there. He'd probably kill the both of them if they both knew his secret for all she knew.

Her mother spoke. "Chloe, let me die knowing that you're safe and well with a possibly great future ahead. Harry would make a great husband. Your father would want this."

The only thing stopping Chloe from leaving at this point was the fact that Harry Flynn was a wanted criminal. A criminal who has probably murdered people before. They could've tried to turn Harry in for what Chloe imagined was a large bounty. But who knows what kind of plan B that the man has in store if she rejects his hand in marriage.

So she ambled up to her chilly room to pack her clothes, lost in thought. She went to the kitchen to "gather snacks" when she was actually slipping a knife into her pocket. She wasn't stupid. If he tries anything, she'll stab him in the eye.

After a bunch of crying (mostly from her mother) and promises of return, Ms. Frazer finally released Chloe from the tight hug she had the young woman in. Harry promised the older woman that he'd take good care of her daughter. Chloe shivered at that.

They lugged her suitcase in the trunk of his car before climbing in. He started the car and drove off. She didn't look back for the fear of crying.

A few minutes passed and Chloe finally grew the sense to finally get some answers.

"Why are you doing this?" She demanded, her voice filled with barely concealed pain, "Marriage? I don't know if you know this, but we just met!"

"Oh, we're not getting married."

"What? Then why take me away from my home?"

"Why not? 

"Answer me, you sick bastard."

Harry sighed as he pulled over on the non-busy street. He turned to her. "Because you hated it there. I know you hated it there. Just admit it."

"That gives you no right to just whisk me away. Now my mother thinks I'm off traveling with you and cooking for you and shining your _goddamn_  shoes. As if it I'd ever do any of that."

"You could've said no," Harry pointed out to her, ignoring her "unladylike" vocabulary, "But you didn't."

"Because I didn't know what you were planning. I was scared."

"Are you still scared now?"

"Of course I am. You're a criminal. A fugitive. You belong in jail. Now take me home."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, because that would be a brilliant idea. No offense, but I don't trust you. We just met after all," He smirked, "Just cooperate and you will have nothing to be worried about, sweetheart."

"Like hell I'll cooperate--"

Chloe's air was knocked right out of her lungs when the cool metal of the barrel of a gun was pressed against the temple of her head.

"I don't want to have to do this," Harry admonished, "And I don't think you want to die. Am I right?"

"Perfectly correct."

"Good," he lowered the gun, an unstable look in his eyes "I'm sorry for taking you away from your home, but I couldn't risk it. I didn't know if you were going to call the cops on me or not. And I'm sorry for scaring you."

Chloe played with her fingers.

"Are we even?" He wondered. With that, Chloe let out a loud laugh.

"Even? Far from it," Chloe snapped, "We're only even if you get a good punch to the face!"

Harry tilted his head with a smirk. "Well, have at it, love."

Chloe frowned as he ambled his head so that she can get a good hit on him. Barely with hesitation, her fist collided with his jaw, creating a loud smack. Massaging his jaw, he put the vehicle into drive and sped off.

 

-

 

They've been on the road for what seemed like hours. Eventually, Chloe had fallen asleep, her head lolled to the side. As she woke up, she wondered if he noticed that she was asleep. 

"Good morning, sunshine," he murmured, even though it was pitch black outside, "Had a nice sleep?"

"What time is it?" She yawned, ignoring his question and stretching her limbs.

"About one in the morning," he answered, his eyes never leaving the road, "There's a motel up ahead."

"And how are you gonna check in without being recognized?" she questioned.

He paused. "Do you know how to do a southern American accent?"

Chloe smiled. She always liked to mock American accents as a child. "I don't know, darlin'. Do I?"

He grinned. "Perfect."

They pulled into the mostly deserted parking lot of the motel. It was in the middle of nowhere, but Harry told her that he wasn't taking any chances. He wore a bowler hat and glasses as an attempt to disguise himself. Chloe had to admit, she would've never guessed that he was a criminal in that get up.

As they strolled through the doors, they saw that the clerk seemed to be swaying. He was half asleep.

"A room for two, please," Harry told him. The clerk was nodding off, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and falling shut.

"A room for two," Harry repeated louder. The clerk snapped awake. "For me n' my cousin, Darla. Let's get a move on."

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired, hun," Chloe added in a southern American accent.

"Oh, sorry, mamn," the clerk nodded sleepily to Harry, "Sir," he nodded to Chloe. He reached back to get a random key and plopped it in Harry's waiting hand. Harry scowled at him for a moment as he immediately went to sleep. The clerk didn't even bother to ask if they wanted one large bed or two single beds. He shrugged.

It didn't take long for them to find their room. Chloe didn't even bother to take off her shoes when she plopped onto the bed. Harry snickered at the sight of her. "You sure you don't want to take off your shoes? They're still wet from the snow, y'know."

Chloe grumbled. Harry rolled his eyes and knelt at the foot of the bed, taking off her shoes for her. She tensed for a moment. "I don't fancy sleeping in wet sheets."

She frowned. "Who says that you're sleeping in this bed?"

"Look around, love. There's only one bed."

Chloe jerked up and saw that he was right. She was sitting on a queen size bed and Harry watched her, amused. She cringed. They couldn't have been given a room with two beds?

"You know," Chloe smiled, clapping her hands together, "I think I'll just sleep on the floor."

"Nonsense," Harry scoffed as she began shifting off the bed, "That floor is pretty dusty and gross."

"I'll live."

"What's the matter?" Harry smirked, "My dear wife doesn't want to sleep with her husband?"

"Shut up," she grimaced, "I'm not married to you."

"Don't worry, I'll stay on my side of the bed," he assured her as he kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt, "If you think I'm not behaving myself, you can punch me again if you'd like." And with that, he took off his shirt and settled under the covers. That offer to punch him again seemed tempting.

Chloe sighed and got under the covers on the other side of the bed, as far as she can get. When she was all settled, she caught his eyes shamelessly glued to her, his head resting on his arm. She huffed and turned around so that she wasn't facing him. 

"Good night, sweetheart," he muttered.

Chloe shut her eyes and waited for sleep to take her.


End file.
